“Yeah, maybe I won’t,” I reply to her comment but don’t pull my stare from the guy who’s been stealing my attention each time we interact. All in one night, I’ve felt more than I have in my seventeen years of living. That’s not normal, right? I mean, he’s still virtually a stranger, someone I know little about.
So get to know him, I chide myself. When there’s nothing to lose, there’s everything to gain.
That last tidbit is something my mother taught me long ago. And in this moment, her lesson holds more weight than ever.
“Yeah, screw the damn list,” Erin mumbles from beside me. “Destiny seems to have intervened.”
“You’re being dramatic,” I scoff.
“Even so, treat this night like you’ll never have it again—because you won’t. Use that heart of yours and tell your mind to shut the hell up.”
“You know me so well.” I glance toward her, smiling softly.
I turn my attention back toward Julian, who’s still patiently waiting for me to gather my senses and return to his company.
And that’s exactly what I do. I straighten my shoulders, take a deep breath, and take the few steps it takes to stand before him.
His eyes brighten, crinkling slightly at the sides as he offers me a smile.
“Any particular reason why you ran off just now?” he asks, voice deep and commanding in the most gentle way possible.
“I’d admit that to you, but I’m far too fearful of further embarrassing myself, so I’d really rather not,” I rush out quickly.
Am I hallucinating or invading some book-to-movie romantic comedy on Netflix? Who’s to say, really. Maybe this is the way being in high school is supposed to be, maybe I’ve been doing it wrong this entire time. Because if a guy I met mere hours ago can make me feel like I’ve lost my breath with just the quirk of his lips, then, well, I am here for it. Terrified but here.
That seventeen thing I mentioned before I had a minor freakout and ran to my best friend? Yeah, I’m definitely back to that.
Here’s to seventeen and all the things, like crushes and cute boys who outshine even the most loved romance heros.
I shake my head. Huh. Maybe the 7-Up I had was spiked or something. Had to be; it’s the only way to describe whatever this is.
“You still down for that game?” Julian asks, holding out an open hand toward me.
“Uh huh, yes, for sure. Let’s go and do the thing,” I spurt, fumbling over my words like the inexperienced flirter—no, like the inexperienced crusher—I am.
“Okay, I’m just going to come right out and say it,” I start, pausing for what I hope passes as dramatic effect. “Beer pong is a lot harder than it looks. I’m sorry I ever doubted your skills, Jules.”
Jules. It's what I’ve been calling him for the last hour as the few shots of beer I drank—courtesy of the game—took root in my bloodstream.
“You doubted my skills?” He clutches his chest dramatically. “I’m wounded, Dev. Eternally so.”
Dev. What he’s been calling me in return, eyes darkening with something I’d rather not name or lighting up with mischief and excitement whenever he does.
A roll of my eyes and full-on single burst of laughter is my only response. He’s nice enough not to flinch back at what I’m sure is coming off as more obnoxious than I intend, again, courtesy of the alcohol.
I clear my throat, a small burp following closely behind. My body is warm and buzzed, and my mind is calm, so calm that I feel no need to pop an Altoids.
“So, how come I haven’t seen you much around school?” he asks, sounding more curious than anything.
“I’m not sure, it’s a big school,” I answer with a shrug. “Though, to be really honest, I don’t do much socializing. You’re more likely to find me in the library or an empty classroom during break and lunch with my nose buried deep in a book.”
“Huh, that’s a shame—the not socializing part, I mean. I’m fairly confident that had I taken notice of you before tonight, I would have taken full advantage of every and any opportunity to interact with you.”
There’s no playfulness to his tone, he’s serious and sure, and it makes my heart pitter-patter like that one Kesha song.
“Do you use that line on every girl you convince to play a game of beer pong?” I ask in return, aware that I’m deflecting. His words make me nervous, but not in a bad way; they actually make me feel really good.
And really good things? Yeah, I’m too awkward to accept them in a cool and calm manner like any sane, regular, well-practiced person would.
His hand finds mine again, gently squeezing in reassurance, and a small smile lights his face. “No, I don’t, so if that’s what you were going to tell yourself, I’m not sorry to say it isn’t my norm. And while we’re on the subject, at the risk of you embarrassing yourself, as you put it earlier, I’d like to ask you again, what made you run off?”
It’d be so simple to laugh him off, to let the nerves bursting along the surface of my skin dictate how these next few minutes will go, but sometimes the things that are most difficult are the best things for you—or something like that. I’m sure I’ve heard my mother use a quote along those lines a time or two.
I sigh, allowing the feel of his fingers lingering against mine sway this decision.
“You terrified me,” I tell him honestly, letting myself vomit words I’d keep close to my chest on any other night. “For the first time, I was feeling something I couldn’t quite pinpoint, something foreign and exhilarating, and it was overwhelming and way too soon to be feeling anything at all, so I needed a breather. I needed to confide in my best friend because she’s my person, and she knows all. So yeah, I ran.”
He nods and takes a single step closer to me, eyes holding mine. It’s noisy all around, what with music playing, people talking, and others crowding the various game tables around us. Still, despite the noise, my mind pushes against it, zeroing in on the guy in front of me.
He leans his head down, and I suck in a breath, holding it in and expecting his lips to land on mine as his loom closer. Except they don’t. Instead, his lips brush against the side of my cheek as he whispers, “You terrify me too, Devon. I’m really glad you decided to socialize tonight and not keep yourself buried in a book.”
“Well,” I pause, swallowing over a nervous lump in my throat, “I had big plans for tonight, none of which included meeting you, but I’m also really glad I did.”
“Big plans, huh?” he questions, pulling back slightly to tilt his head in curiosity. “You’ll have to tell me about those sometime.”
“Yeah, I just might,” I breathe, heart beating triple time the longer we stand this close together.
I file this moment away, securing it tightly so I don’t lose it. It’s one I want to look back on, especially sober, though I’ve never felt more stable than I do right now.
Julian is someone I wouldn’t mind getting to know better, someone I’d like to hold on to for awhile, but that isn’t up to me. Despite his attention on me tonight, I know better than to believe I’m the only girl he’s done this with. Who knows, this may be on his weekly agenda. So, I’ll store this memory and look back on it later because I’ve never felt more raw and exposed than I do now, and it feels fearless and fun, and I’d like to feel it again, preferably with him. But again, I know better.
Oh, hey insecurities, I’ve missed you dearly.
Maybe I’ve had more to drink tonight than I thought, which means it’s definitely time to extract myself from this situation and go home.
I pull from him slowly, bringing my hand with me. “I should get going.”
“Sure, yeah.” He clears his throat, confusion marring his features a bit. “Do you want me to walk you home or wait with you while your ride comes?”
It’s sweet, but I shake my head in refusal.
“No, that’s okay, I’ve got Erin.”
He looks like he wants to say more, I can see him searching for words, but I don’t give him th
e opportunity to. This entire night has been a whirlwind, and I feel like I need time to process all of its events.
“I had fun with you, so thank you for keeping me company tonight,” I say softly, offering him a nervous, close-lipped smile as I back away, knowing I’ll have to convince Erin to leave with me but that she’ll agree anyway because that’s what best friends do.
Five
“Devon!” Erin nearly yells as she runs toward me in the library. “I feel like I haven’t seen you in ages!”
She’s shushed by every person in the library with me, and I can’t help but laugh as I whisper-shout, “You may want to keep it down before you get us both in trouble before school even starts.”
“Ugh, sorry, force of habit,” she states, sounding anything but apologetic.
I shake my head at her, brow raising in question. “Is there a reason you’re at school before the tardy bell rings—on a Monday morning, no less?”
“Well, you’ve been avoiding any and all questions about Friday night all weekend, so because I’m impatient as all hell, I wanted to catch you ASAP,” she shares like it’s super obvious. “So, here I am.”
“This is my quiet time, you realize that, right? I’m pretty sure we have an unspoken rule that you don’t impede on my time to read before I’m forced to not do so in, like, every one of my classes,” I point out.
“Eh,” Erin waves me off dismissively. “You have lunch and break to read, you’ll be fine.”
“If you say so,” I mumble, sticking a candy wrapper between the pages of my book as a page holder and placing it into my backpack as slowly and gently as possible—mostly to prolong the inevitable, which is all of Erin’s questions.
She eyes me impatiently, excitement written all over her face. “So, please let me ask. After you all but dragged me out of the kickback and home, you’ve said zilch about your night.”
I sigh, slow and steady, mentally preparing myself for what I know will be a heavy amount of questions. And then I nod, a single jolt of my head to let her know that she can, in fact, ask.
A silent-ish squeal is her reaction before the words leave her mouth in a rush. “How. Was. It?”
I don’t need to ask her to be specific, I already know exactly which part of the night she’s referring to—my time with Julian after our sort-of pep talk. And because she can read me better than anyone, I respond truthfully. “It was…it was more than I thought it would be and somehow not enough.”
Alright, so, I was clearly feeling the effects of my latest rom-com, what with words like that casually coming out of my mouth.
She stares at me expectantly, silently encouraging me to go on. So, I do.
“He was fun, and I felt comfortable with him,” I say. “It was easy being around him once I let myself relax and let loose—well, as much as I’m able—and there were only a few awkward moments, surprisingly.”
She nods quickly. “I totally get that. So, don’t be mad, but I definitely did some minor recon on him over the weekend and put my ability to stalk—er, investigate—someone to good use.”
“Of course you did,” I comment playfully, rolling my eyes. “But I thought you knew about him already? I mean, you did share some tidbits after the game.”
“Yeah, tidbits, but now I feel like I have a whole damn bowl of information.”
“Just a bowl?” I question, sounding disappointed.
“If we weren’t on such limited time to discuss right now, then I would definitely linger on that cruel question later.”
I let out a quiet laugh, knowing how much she prides herself on being able to dig into people’s lives, mostly through the use of social media.
“Of course you would,” I quip. “Also, I definitely want to hear about your night too, let’s not make this all about me.”
“Oh, please, I’m prone to nights like that, but it’s not every day you are, so, our focus is you this time. Sorry, best.”
“Fine, continue on, what did you find out about Julian?”
“I’m so glad you asked,” she croons, her tone simultaneously making me cringe and laugh. “Well, to be honest, I didn’t find much about him that I didn’t already know. Julian Evans, if the hundreds of posts he was tagged in over the weekend are any indication, is a favorite pasttime of South View’s female population.”
“I don’t even know what that means,” I state, a bit dumbfounded.
“It means he’s popular with everyone.”
“If he’s so popular with everyone, then why was Friday the first time I’ve interacted with him or even seen him?”
“Uh, maybe because you’re actually a good, studious bookworm who pays attention in her classes while the rest of us gossip and exchange notes like we’re in the sixth grade?”
“Still, I’m sure I would have noticed him before, like in a class or across campus or something.”
“Hmm, would you have? I mean, really?” Both of her brows are raised, almost challenging, and as much as I’d like to defend myself, I know she’s right. I’m notorious for tuning out the world around me. It’s safer and easier that way, and it prevents me from overanalyzing what everyone else is up to, which is also something I’m notorious for.
“Probably not, but it did make me wonder quite a bit over the weekend if maybe I’d paid attention and met him sooner, would I have felt this same way?”
“I don’t think so.” She shakes her head confidently. “You weren’t open to even the idea of having someone in a romantic way. This is the first time in all the years I’ve known you that you’ve been open to something like that.”
“I honestly just realized I didn’t want to miss out on all the things it means to be young and in high school,” I admit gently. “I mean, this time next year, we’ll be away at college, hopefully experiencing new adventures. So, as silly as it may sound, I genuinely don’t want to miss out on the adventures I’m able to take now. And a crush? Feeling those first-time butterflies and catching emotions for someone else? Yeah, I really want that. Does that make me sound desperate?”
I feel exposed and bare, and it makes me want to run and hide somewhere secluded and dark where I can make myself hidden from everyone. Instead, I settle on popping an Altoids in my mouth and chewing aggressively before popping in a couple more. I breathe in and out slowly and deeply, savoring the sensation that follows shortly after the mint dissolves on my tongue.
“Hey, no, it definitely does not,” Erin says softly, a slight scold contorting her features. “You know what that does make you? Seventeen.”
I sigh, leaning my head back against the shelf I’ve been sitting against. “Thank you for this, Erin. Really. A talk like this on a Monday morning before school? It’s something I didn’t know I needed.”
It’s then that the morning bell rings, alerting us that it’s time to head to class.
“I can’t tell if you’re being sarcastic or not right now,” she remarks slowly and a bit suspiciously. “So, because we have about five minutes to get to class, I’m just going to give you a big hug and promise to continue this conversation later, because we’re far from finished, best.”
“Yeah, yeah, if you say so.”
I laugh and hug her, and she hugs me back, and it makes me so freaking grateful to have her in my life.
As I walk to class a few minutes later, I’m paranoid about a couple of things. For one, that people saw me and Julian on Friday night and are gossiping about it as they watch me walk to class—though people could give two nothings about what I’m doing right now. And two, that I’m going to start seeing him and running into him at every corner. Why? Well, that’s how life usually works—you go from never seeing someone to seeing them all the time. It’s really screwed, if you think about it.
I shake the anxiety-inducing thoughts from my brain and focus on getting to class. It’s going to be the Mondayest of Mondays, that’s for sure.
Lunch is thirty minutes. That’s it. Thirty minutes. So, I was smart enough to have my free peri
od be the one that starts directly after lunch ends, which means I get nearly an hour and a half of free time each school day. I’m definitely winning, and it’s one thousand percent one of my favorite parts of the day.
How do I spend it? Well, in the library, of course, or sometimes on really nice days, I’ll sit under a tree in the quad. Occasionally during lunch, Erin will join me, but being the social butterfly she is, well, she’s usually running around, hopping from group to group and getting her fill of human interaction before lunch ends.
Currently, my eyes are roaming through the pages of a book I just started the night before, a book I’m surprising myself by even reading, but it’s so good that I just keep turning the pages and muttering to myself about one more chapter each time I finish one.
“Nerdgasm, huh?” a deep voice asks from above me. My eyes pause on the page and goosebumps line the surface of my skin, reacting to the sound. “Does this Kimberly Reese person know what they’re talking about?”
I swallow over a nervous lump then compose myself, my eyes trailing from the book to the person looming over me. I offer an unsteady smile, both surprised and elated to see him here. “She seems to. I’ll let you know the verdict once I’m done reading.”
“Can I request that that be several months from now?” he asks in an awkwardly adorable way as he sits across from me at the otherwise unoccupied table.
“Why’s that?” I ask, confused and curious.
“Well, it guarantees that you’ll still be talking to me then,” he replies matter-of-factly.
I fight back a smile as his words pierce the deepest parts of my heart, the parts reserved long ago for moments like this, moments of vulnerability and falling in like.
Whoa. Falling in like? This is your second interaction with the dude. Slow down, girl.
“That’s very bold of you to say, Julian,” I remark, taken aback in the best of ways. He’s full of surprises.
When a Heart Trips Page 3